It Was A Good Year
by BrenRenQoI
Summary: Missing Scene for 1969 Jack and Sam take advantage of their moment lost in time to address the underlying issues between them.


It Was a Good Year

by Bren Ren

Disclaimer: I only wish The Idiots In Charge would air stuff like this. Since they won't, I will. Virtually speaking.

1969. It wasn't possible, and yet, here they were, trapped thirty-some years in the past. And the resident genius had no clue how to get them back where, or more to the point, when, they belong.

Sam bit down on her lower lip as she scribbled a few more varied equations onto the notepad she had been filling up since they climbed aboard the "hippy-mobile" yesterday afternoon. So far, she had at least three dozen theories as to how they got here, but was no closer to a way home than when she started. Looking over her chicken scratch, she almost managed to choke back the low growl of frustration that rumbled through her chest. She threw the pencil down at the pad with no small amount of force before abruptly standing and removing herself from the offensive calculations.

"Easy, Captain!" She'd knocked the small table into the wall, and the noise must have woken the Colonel, who was now regarding her from the bus's surprisingly comfortable couch with a slightly sleep-bleary yet slightly-wide-eyed-with-surprise expression.

"Sorry, sir. Forgot you were there."

His brow wrinkled in confusion for a moment as he reoriented with his surroundings. And her appearance, she realized as he gave her a slow toe-to-head appraisal. Just before it could make her nervous, he smiled. He rose to his feet and extended a hand to her.

"Come on, it's time for a break."

"But sir—"

"Ah-ah," he said, waggling his finger at her. "You've been at it non-stop long enough. You hardly slept, had nothing but coffee for breakfast, and I know for a fact you skipped lunch. I'm betting Daniel and T have already started roaring bonfire that's bound to burn the last of the hot dogs."

She couldn't quite hold back an amused chuckle. She glanced down at the notepad and released a ragged sigh. She raised her head and looked back to her CO and friend, waiting (somewhat) patiently for her to give in. She gave him a small, defeated smile.

"All right. I suppose it's going to be dark soon enough." She glanced out the window of the bus to see the sun sinking slowly behind the distant hills. "Where are we, anyway?"

"Lake of the Ozarks." At her slight frown, he continued, "Somewhere in the middle of Missouri." He pronounced it "misery" just to make her smile again. Naturally, it worked.

"We're making pretty good time, then. In spite of going all the way down to the 66." Sam knew she had been the lone voice to argue against the indirect, time-consuming route; she delivered her observation now with a slightly apologetic smile.

With that impetuous grin of his she so adored, he nodded his head towards the door. "C'mon. Let's go get our kicks." Once again he extended his hand to her. This time she accepted, though, with a slightly quirked brow, which he either didn't see or simply ignored. He gave her a slight tug and led her out of the bus.

Sam let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding the moment her feet touched the ground. She dropped the Colonel's hand as she glanced around at their campsite. Amidst the jungle of trees, bushes, and other various greeneries, she spied Daniel, Teal'c, and their hosts gathered around a makeshift fire pit several yards from the rear of the bus. There didn't appear to be any fire in the pit, though.

"Hey, campers! Thought you were gonna have dinner done by now!" The Colonel bore an odd lop-sided grin that only slightly belied the harsh bark of his voice. "We're starving here!"

"The food would have been prepared by now, O'Neill, had Daniel Jackson heeded my advice to utilize the dry under brush material for kindling. He, however, had a 'much better plan'—"

"Hey! You never once used the word 'kindling' until just now—"

"Whoa! Enough! Time out!" This time, there was no smile to soften his harsh tone. O'Neill moved to stand between them, his arms flailing like a raging referee. "From now on, T builds the fire. Daniel, you can burn the dogs." He turned back to Carter. "C'mon," he told her with a slight nod of the head.

"Where are you going?" Daniel's voice carried more than a hint of annoyance.

O'Neill scowled at him, and then gestured in the general direction of the lake. "Lakeside. Holler when chow's done."

Without waiting for any further response, O'Neill turned and began walking towards the lake, which was a good distance away from their campsite.

Samantha Carter half-shrugged in apology, then turned and followed her commander. She almost had to run to catch up with him, and even when she did, he did not slow his breakneck pace until they reached the lakeshore. Only then, he abruptly stopped, and she nearly collided into him.

She moved to his side, looking to his face for some indication of cause for his sudden odd behavior. He continued to stare impassively out across the lake. She turned to take in the scenery, just in time to catch the last sliver of the sun sinking behind the distant hills to their left.

"Where were you in the summer of '69?" His voice was soft, almost inaudible over the whisper-soft breeze stirring the unseasonably cool air.

A chill ran down her spine and Samantha pulled her scarf in closer around her neck. "1969? Jeeze… I was only a couple of years old. I'm really not sure where we were… We moved around a lot, you know… I was your typical Air Force Brat, I guess." She glanced up and caught the hint of a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. She waited, but he didn't say anything for a long while. She glanced up again and asked, "What about you?"

She saw the muscles in his jaw tic slightly before the grim frown creased his brow. "August 5th, 1969. I was 12." Again, he paused for a long moment. She waited patiently for him to continue. "The day my oldest brother left for Vietnam. He never came back."

She closed her eyes as realization sunk in. Small wonder his mood was had become so dark. A sudden gust wafted through, rustling her long skirt and sending another chill through her. She pulled her jacket in tighter.

"Cold?" he asked. She nodded. He tipped his head to the side and regarded her for a moment, then offered her his arm. She accepted with a quizzical smile, and they began to walk along the shoreline.

They strolled in silence, the only sounds being the soft break of waves along the shore, the occasional birdcall, the breeze rustling through leaves. She waited patiently for him to open up conversation as twilight gave way to a sultry dusk as the last rays of the sun faded away. It was a long, quiet wait until he spoke, again soft-spoken, barely audible. Not nervous, but intense.

"There is…something… here." It was an odd statement, almost, but not quite, a question.

"Something?"

He paused his steps and turned to look at her, dropping her arm so he could remove his dark sunglasses at last. The intensity burning his gaze almost felt like a physical blow. She suddenly felt warm, uncomfortably warm under his scrutiny.

"Something we probably shouldn't talk about. Even just acknowledging it is dangerous." His voice was so low, so dark, it sent shivers coursing through Sam. She couldn't deny that she knew precisely what he was referring to. He was absolutely right, too. Even the simple act of discussion was fraught with peril.

"And yet," he continued, "not talking about it hasn't exactly done anything to discourage it—"

"Discourage it?" Something potentially more dangerous sparked in her eyes. "Is that what this is?"

"No." He answered before she had quite finished the question.

She waited for him to continue, but he suddenly seemed at a loss for words. "Then what?" she prompted. He frowned slightly. She reached across the shrinking distance between them and laid a hand across his forearm. Somewhere in the back of her mind, it occurred to her that he was uncharacteristically still. "What is it?"

He suddenly smiled. "I think that's what I'm trying to figure out." Her eyes widened in dawning understanding, and then softened into a genuinely confused frown. "It's just that… the way I see it, we have something of a one-of-a-kind opportunity here. In 1969, that is."

"How so?"

Now it was Jack's turn to frown. He seemed to be struggling for words. "I have complete faith that you'll find a way to get us home—"

"Can I borrow some of that?" Even Sam herself was a bit surprised by her bold interruption. Jack, though, just continued without pause. The smile was creeping back in the corners of his lips.

"We are not going to be stuck here…now. Then." He was confusing himself now. "Or whatever. But the thing is… **when** are we getting back? The same moment we left? A few hours later? Days? Equal to the time we spend here?"

"That's very difficult to say, sir. I'm still not certain how we ended up here in the first place. I couldn't even begin to hazard a guess as to how our return time will be affected. Although… I would think the chances of returning at a time that would have us absent from our real time proportionate to our time in the past… Let's just say, a hurricane blowing through a junkyard would stand a better shot at randomly building the Taj Mahal out of all the junk." She was treated to a snicker from Jack for her unusual analogy. That annoying little voice in the back of her head chimed up again, noting that he really was starting to rub off on her.

"We've been working together for two years now." She started slightly at his statement. It fit in so well with her thoughts, she wondered for a moment if she had accidentally voiced them. "I've never had a second like you."

"A woman?" She just couldn't help herself sometimes, Sam thought.

Jack just snickered again. "That, too." Then his eyes turned disturbingly serious again. "We really do work well together. Helluva lot better than I'd have thought possible." He paused again, seeming to consider his next words. "Especially considering certain underlying issues." He gave her a moment to digest the full impact of his statement before going on. "So, I'm thinkin', when we get home, there's gonna be this gap of…" he winced, trying to find the right terminology for their odd situation. "'Missing time,' he settled on, "which, depending on how you look at it, never really happened. Or will happen." He frowned again. "Or something like that. Time-travel lingo. Gets really confusing sometimes."

Sam shook her head and chuckled softly. "What** exactly** are you suggesting, sir?"

It was getting fairly dark now, and it was getting difficult to see him, even though he stood just inches away. Still, she could make out a slightly grim smile. "First of all, how about dropping the 'sir' for the rest of this conversation." Sam gasped slightly in surprise before acquiescing a small nod and a curious smile. "I guess I'm suggesting… that if there were ever a time to… get things out in the open, as it were, that now is the… time."

Sam decided to take her time considering. It wasn't exactly the clearest argument, and there were many obvious flaws. However… there went that stupid little voice again. He does have a point somewhere in that muddle. It wasn't a completely inappropriate suggestion, even. Keeping the air clear between them could only help serve their working relationship. It was dangerous territory now, but to let things continue to fester unaddressed could prove to be just as harmful as any illicit affair. Of course, at the thought of that, her mind was all too tempted to take a deliciously sinful turn, and it was a struggle to refocus her thoughts. Especially when standing toe to toe with the object of her wayward desires. She groaned out loud at the determined path to the gutter that little voice was taking. Enough was enough.

"All right, Jack." She took another half step forward and brought her face scant inches from his. She could fairly taste his breath. "Let's talk."

Part Two

They stood toe-to-toe, scant inches of open space between them. Sam could see the rapid fire of his pulse coursing through the veins in his neck. She wondered if he could hear her own heart trying to beat its way through her ribcage. For good, bad, or indifferent, she knew their relationship, however it might be defined, would never be the same after this conversation. It was both terrifying and exhilarating at once. She watched myriad thoughts and unthinkable feelings flit through his eyes as he finally opened his mouth to begin this difficult discussion.

He released a slow sigh, and as his warm breath wafted down across her face, she swallowed hard against the bubble of sudden, fierce desire that shot right through the core of her. "I guess there's no easy way to start this, huh?" His voice was softer and gentler than she had ever heard before, though there was still that underlying intensity that sent chills down her spine.

Sam took a deep breath, trying to prepare for the plunge, but just before she could speak—

"JACK! SAM! YOU TWO OUT HERE?" The two officers jumped back like they'd been shot at.

"WE'RE HERE, DANIEL. BE THERE IN A SEC!" Jack was the one to pull himself together quick enough to answer, thus preventing the ill-timed archaeologist from further intruding upon them. He offered a wry smile to Sam, though she couldn't really see it now, as dark as it had become.

Jack took a step back towards her, extending a hand until it brushed against her. He quickly realized though, that his aim was more than a bit off. The flesh beneath her quilted jacket was a bit too soft to be the well-toned arm of his second. He felt her quiver slightly beneath his touch as he grazed his fingers across her chest to the safety of her upper arm.

"Sorry," he murmured.

"You really don't play fair," she told him with a shake of her head. She could just make out the grin that spread across his face, prompting a childish impulse to stick her tongue out at him. Fear of what he'd do in response held her in check, and her tongue firmly planted in her cheek.

Still, she couldn't resist baiting him a bit further. "But then, I suppose, all is fair in love and war… If you'll pardon the cliché." Spotting the wicked gleam in his eye, she added a belated, "Sir."

Jack seemed to be fighting off a likely indecent response; his smirk fairly shouted how sorely tempted he was to bait her further. She watched him take a half step closer, like she wasn't already close enough to crawl inside his jacket. Another step and she could wear him like a second skin. Jack stared down at her with eyes so dark they looked like windows into deep space.

Sam swallowed hard against a startling thrill of lust; she couldn't quite keep her nervousness hidden as she shifted her weight slightly. Her tongue darted out to moisten lips that were suddenly too dry. She saw his eye tracking the small movement, and for a heartbeat or two, she was certain he would kiss her.

Instead, he stepped back abruptly, cleared his throat, and said, "Come on. We'd better get going before Daniel sends Teal'c to chaperone us back." Sam blinked, then shivered as her body registered the absence of his warmth. She sighed, trying to mentally shake off the whisper of disappointment.

They turned to leave and Jack again offered her his arm. Sam smiled as she wrapped her arm around his, leaning into him just the slightest bit. They walked back alongside the lakeshore at a leisurely pace until they could see the now-blazing bonfire heralding their campsite. Just before they turned away from the lake, Sam paused.

She turned to face Jack directly, and fixed him with one of her most determined stares. "You may have started it, but I fully intend to see that we finish that conversation. You aren't off the hook by a long shot. Sir."

"Good." He smiled. "And neither are you."

She nodded back with a small smile, and then they turned to walk the rest of the way back to the camp.

Dinner was consumed in relative silence. Daniel kept attempting to sneak glances towards Sam and Jack. It might have gone unnoticed, had the trademark Teal'c eyebrow not arched sharply every time Daniel's eyes slid sideways. Sam had hard time keeping the snickering to herself, as did Jack. By the time the modest meal was through, they were both biting their tongues pretty hard.

As they finished clearing the remnant waste from dinner, Jack pulled Daniel aside. Sam watched them from the opposite side of the campfire.

"You and T can go ahead and crash. Carter and I will take first watch."

Daniel frowned. He studied Jack for a long, awkward moment. Jack frowned back at him, the only indication of his discomfort. Finally, Daniel spoke. "Is there something going on with you two?"

"What?" Jack's head spun over to catch Sam's eye. She returned his wide-eyed expression with a quizzical arch of her brows. He shook his head and turned back to face Daniel.

"Well, it's just… you two were out there for quite a while, and I got the feeling that I was interrupting something… and then neither of you said a word during dinner…."

"So? You and T were just as mute. And what's with that eyebrow thing? Something going on with you two I should be concerned about?"

Daniel couldn't quite stifle the harsh bark of laughter. He pulled himself together quickly enough, though, for one last attempt to confirm his suspicions.

"Seriously, Jack. You and Sam… I know there's been something brewing beneath the surface between you two since day one. I know there's the whole 'regs' issue, but… well, it just seems to me that if you two really wanted… something more for your relationship… I'm sure you could find away around it…" Daniel shrugged as he trailed off, starting to get an appreciation for the difficulties involved just in discussing the issue. If it was difficult for him to find the words, he could scarcely imagine how impossible it would be for a man as emotionally withdrawn as Jack O'Neill generally appeared. "I don't know… I guess it just seems stupid to let military rules get in the way of your happiness. You deserve to be happy. You both do…And I… Well, I just want you to know you've got my support."

Jack took his time considering the younger man's words before finally responding. When he spoke, his chose his words with deliberate intent. "I appreciate what you're trying to do, Daniel... and if you really want to help… the best thing you could do for us would be to just leave us the hell alone while we try and sort this out."

"Right." Daniel chuckled. "No more untimely interruptions tonight. Promise."

Jack nodded. "I'm holding you to that. Don't make me sic Teal'c on you." He turned away and walked around the campfire to Sam. "You ready?" he asked softly.

The puzzled expression hadn't left her face. "What was all that about?"

"Just Daniel giving us his blessing," he informed her with a wry smile.

Sam's eye just about popped out of her head. "What?"

He shook his head. "Don't worry about it." He clasped her arm in one hand as his other came to rest at the small of her back. He began ushering her away from the campsite. "Come on, let's take a walk."

They strolled in somewhat comfortable silence back toward the lake. A full moon was just rising over the eastern hills when they reached the shoreline. The gentle light tinted everything in a serene silvery-blue wash. All things considered, it was quite the romantic setting. Sam felt a sudden, sharp thrill race through her, leaving her trembling slightly in its wake.

"Cold?" His voice was warm, compassionate, and nearly her undoing right then and there. She shook her head mutely. She wasn't quite ready to trust her voice.

Sam was torn inside. On one hand, she was glad to have this chance to clear the air. Just knowing there was something to be discussed was a relief in itself. It wasn't just her, he felt it, too. Whatever else it might be, it was at least mutual. On the other hand, all of her training and discipline, instilled not just by a career in the military but an entire life regulated by USAF guidelines, was screaming inside that this was terribly wrong, completely inappropriate.

"We don't have to do this if you don't want to. Just say the word."

Sam gasped. Just when did Jack O'Neill become a mind reader? She belatedly realized that they weren't walking anymore. She turned to face him directly.

This was it. He was giving her an out. That booming inner voice of military authority shouted for her to walk away while she could, but she steeled herself against it with newfound resolution. For once in her life, she ignored it.

"Jack." A wicked smile crept across her face. "I told you before dinner. You are not getting off the hook." He returned her smile with a wolfish gleam of his own. Another delicious thrill raced down her spine. She was still feeling torn inside, but strangely enough, the greater the anticipation built up, the more confidence she felt.

"So where do we begin?"

"The beginning?" she retorted.

"I knew I was in big trouble the second you walked into that briefing." Jack laughed softly. "Both barrels blazing, no holds barred. You made one hell of a first impression."

Sam looked away, a hint of blushing darkening her cheeks. "Right. You thought I was just another science geek. With a big gender-chip on her shoulder."

"A hot science geek," Jack replied with a predatory grin, "Who's had to fight too damn hard for the respect she deserves."

Sam swallowed, the blush darkening further. "Hot?"

"I'm not blind, and you're too smart not to have a clue how attractive you are, Sam. Who was it you pounced on during that whole Broca virus infection? I wasn't exactly fighting you off all that hard…and I didn't start suffering the effects myself till afterward. I'd say it's pretty obviously a mutual attraction."

Sam knew she was blushing head to toe as the memories came flooding back to her. " 'Not like this,'" she softly quoted.

"You asked if I wanted you." He took a step closer to her, reached out to touch her face. His touch was feather-light as he traced the contours of her jaw. "Do you have any clue what that did to me? I can't tell you how many cold showers it took to wash away the fantasies that little episode inspired."

Sam was trembling. Without warning, she was suddenly terrified of where this conversation was taking them. The emotions raging through her were too strong; the sheer chemistry was overwhelming her senses and clouding her mind. She spun away from Jack, moved out of his reach.

"Do you have any idea how hard **this** is for me?" she asked softly. "It's not just regs, Jack. My whole life has been dictated by military discipline. To stand here and admit to you, my Commanding Officer, that I…" Sam swallowed hard, trying to choose all the right words, anxiously aware of the consequences if she said the wrong ones. "That I have so many…inappropriate feelings for you…"

Jack stayed back, sensing her need for space. "I have too much respect for you to take any chances with your career, Sam. That's half the reason I wanted to clear the air on this now. I'm afraid if we just keep… ignoring it, denying it, and otherwise avoiding the issue, it's going to end up backfiring on us. It would be just as dangerous to us, to the team, to have all this… unresolved tension suddenly come exploding to the surface in the heat of battle. Frankly, I'd really rather not take that risk."

Jack let his words hang in the air for as long as she needed to process. When she finally nodded in agreement, Jack cautiously moved to stand behind her. He placed a hand on her shoulder, which she tentatively reached up to clasp in her hand.

"Sam?" He gently urged her to turn and face him, which she did with heartbreaking, almost shy reluctance. Their hands dropped down to their sides, still joined, fingers intertwining. "Nothing you say here… nothing we do… will ever be held against you. I promise." He offered her his most reassuring smile. "What happens in 1969…. stays in 1969."

Sam mulled the silly phrase in her head for a moment. Her eyes searched his face, though neither of them quite knew what she was looking for. A range of emotions flickered across her face as she scanned his. Uncertainty. A trace of fear. Anticipation. Raw need. Longing. Desire. Then, without warning, her expression shifted into one of fierce determination, so strong it literally took Jack's breath away. When she stepped in closer to him, he almost staggered back. Her eyes glinted in the moonlight, her blue irises looking crystalline.

"I want you, Jack O'Neill. Like I've never wanted anyone. It terrifies me. But nothing I've tried for the last two years has done a damn thing to make it go away. I can't get you out of my head… or my heart. That's what's really frightening, I think…. It's one thing to lust after you, as it were…. but it's become so much more than that. You said it yourself earlier, we make a good team. We work really well together. You have always shown me complete respect; you've never questioned my abilities, you never held the usual gender prejudices I've learned to expect. That alone is a pretty rare thing, even in this modern liberated age. You have always treated me as an equal, and I don't think I could ever tell you how much I appreciate that. We really … we get along great... You're a wonderful leader, a good friend… So how the hell am I supposed to do anything less than fall completely head over heels…." She suddenly trailed off, not quite ready to say those words yet.

Jack cupped her face in his free hand. His thumb stroked the soft flesh just below her earlobe and sent tingling chills down her spine once more. "And you, Sam, are incredibly brave, and smart, and sexy, as good in the battlefield as in the laboratory, and probably the only person in the entire galaxy to appreciate my unique sense of humor. How the hell am I supposed to do anything **but** fall just as completely head over heels?"

The silence stretched between them as they each fully processed all the implications of their admissions. They stood there for a lifetime measured by pounding heartbeats. They stared at one another, unable to tear their gazes apart, so totally lost were they in the power of the moment. So many emotions were boiling between them, so much tension and anticipation, they should have known it would snap, and snap hard. Without another word, they hit the breaking point in unison.

When at last they collided, mouth crashed into mouth in a tumultuous rush. Lips and teeth and tongues clashed, the hunger between them mounting to insatiable degrees as they devoured one another. They clung together, arms wrapped tightly and bodies pressed together so intimately Sam could practically feel the blood surging through his veins.

Her head was spinning, she could feel her own blood rushing and pooling due south of the border. She only clung tighter, dove her tongue deeper into his mouth, eager to taste and touch and explore every nook and cranny she could find. Jack slid his arm down to her waist and pulled her impossibly closer. She whimpered into his mouth as the heat from his groin seared straight through her very core. She felt as much as heard his responding groan. It nearly drove her right over the edge.

Sam abruptly broke off the kiss, jerking back from him, but not quite extracting herself from his embrace. He relaxed his grip and held on to her loosely. They stood there like that for a long moment; their breathing ragged as they fought through the fog of lust to regain some semblance of composure. As their heartbeats pounded out the timeless seconds, their eyes passed a thousand unspoken messages between them.

"Wow." Sam was the one to finally brave breaking the silence.

"You can say that again." Sam noticed a husky, unfamiliar timbre in his voice. Something about it made her stomach flip wild little somersaults.

"Wow," she repeated. Never before now had she felt so totally ravaged with blinding lust. She was actually weak in the knees! Her whole body was on fire, yet she couldn't keep herself from shivering. Every breath was a major effort, leaving her feeling more light-headed by the second. She wrapped her hands around Jack's strong arms and held on for dear life. It was all too much, too fast, and if she thought she wouldn't fall flat on her face, she would have turned and run for the hills.

The wave of panic slowly dissipated, but Sam was left shaken in its wake. Doubt lingered in her eyes and finally forced her to voice her deepest fear. "If we do this… How could we possibly go back to… standard protocol?"

"We couldn't. You know we can't go back. All we can do is go forward. Whether we do anything more or not, we still have to figure out how we're going to deal with this when we get home." Jack paused for a moment before pulling her in a bit closer. "But I'll tell you this…I do not want to let this go—to let you go."

"I don't want to let you go, either," she replied softly. "I don't think I could, even if I did."

Jack smiled, a heartwarming beam that flooded her senses and filled her with hope. "So the real question is… how do we make **this** work without sacrificing our careers, not to mention the risks to the team…"

"I could transfer to another team—"

"Forget that!" Jack's response was swift and decisive. "Not an option. We're not breaking up the team."

"Then how?" She shook her head, unable to think of any possible way they could legitimately be together. The impossibility of it was daunting. She swallowed hard against the bubble of fear welling up in her chest.

"Never said it would be easy." Jack sighed, sharing in her frustration. "I don't think we should try any sort of 'secret affair'… it's too risky. Which takes us back to square one. I think we need to face the reality that once we get home…we're going to have put this on hold… for as long as it takes us to defeat the Goa'uld—or at least until we can acquire the means to secure Earth's defense against the damn snakeheads."

"You really think we can do that?" Sam's eyes were still clouded with doubt, in spite of the hope that wouldn't quite die back down.

"I think we've already been doing it for the last two years." He urged closer still. "Tonight, we have the chance to make this something real… something permanent. This may be a 'one-night-stand' by definition, but we both know this is a hell of a lot more." He cupped her face once more, his touch so tender it almost brought tears to her eyes. "I'm not trying to pressure you, Sam. If we make love, it will be because you want it every bit as much as I do."

Sam stared at him for a long time while she debated her decision. One night to hold on to through the next however many months, even years of lonely nights… it was so very tempting. But months or years of working side-by-side, never able to touch, to speak the words in her heart… would it be bearable? Could the love now blossoming between them withstand the tests of time and duty?

"If we walk away right now, it wouldn't change the way I feel, Sam. I need you in my life. And even though we can't be involved the way I'd like… working with you day in and day out… it's enough. For now. We can worry about later… later."

She considered him for a moment longer before she closed the last little bit of space between them. She wound her arms around his neck, and something deep inside her suddenly broke free. The fear that had been building up for so long faded away into the night.

"What happens in 1969… stays in 1969," she murmured before pulling his face down to meet hers.

Fini

Love and hot fudge,

Bren 


End file.
